


Secret

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire's hastily concocted excuse for why they were in Enjolras's bedroom together seems to work on Combeferre until, well, it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Briefly NSFW at the very end.
> 
> Just a little bit of fluffy nerd boyfriends who continue to think they can fool everyone, and continue to be proven wrong. Nerds.
> 
> Usual disclaimer applies just as it always does. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

The doorbell rang and Enjolras sat bolt upright, dislodging Grantaire from where he was curled against him, fast asleep. “Shit, it’s Combeferre,” he said, glancing quickly at the clock on the nightstand and shoving Grantaire. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, get up!”

“Fuck off,” Grantaire said drowsily, though he at least rolled onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Enjolras clenched his teeth. “Combeferre’s here, and unless you want him to find out about us and this, you need to get out of bed and put some fucking clothes on.” To emphasize his point, he tossed Grantaire’s boxers at him, not even caring that they landed directly on his face.

It was, however, enough to make Grantaire actually sit up, though his post-coital mind was still trying to work through what exactly was going on. “But why is Combeferre here?”

The doorbell rang for a second time and Enjolras glared first at the door and then at Grantaire. “I’m supposed to be getting dinner with him tonight.”

“And, what, you didn’t think to tell me that before we fucked?” Grantaire asked, sounding far too amused as he pulled his boxers on and stood to grab his jeans off the floor. “And why are you getting pissy with me over it? Am I supposed to be the one keeping track of your schedule and ensuring that you don’t have plans already scheduled before we have sex? Because as I recall, it was you who wanted a bit of — what did you call it? — afternoon delight.”

“Firstly, I have never once used the phrase ‘afternoon delight’ in my entire life,” Enjolras growled, pulling a shirt on without looking and accidentally putting it on backwards. “Secondly, today was my one day off this week and I just wanted to blow off a little steam the absolutely best way that I know how. Can you really blame me for that?”

Grantaire snorted. “I blame little Enjy for not knowing its own schedule.”

Enjolras made a noise halfway between desperation and laughter in the back of his throat and all but launched himself at Grantaire, pulling him into an embrace that was half-hug, half-headlock, and snarled low in his ear, “I have told you not to call my dick little Enjy…”

Tickling Enjolras’s sides, Grantaire asked, a little breathlessly, “Did you really mean it was the absolute best way that you knew how to blow off steam?”

“I would never lie about that,” Enjolras said, suddenly serious, before tickling him as well. The doorbell rang for a third time, and Enjolras kissed Grantaire quickly, a brief but sweet kiss, the kind that left Grantaire grinning at him a little stupidly. Then Enjolras went to go answer the door, calling over his shoulder, “Put a shirt on.”

"Come up with a valid reason for why I’m here," Grantaire returned, smirking.

Once Enjolras let Combeferre in and gave him a half-assed excuse for why Grantaire was not only in Enjolras’s apartment but currently in his bedroom, he disappeared back into the bedroom to grab his coat so that they could leave. But once they were alone, Enjolras kissed Grantaire again, practically showing him against the wall as he kissed him hungrily, and Grantaire laughed softly as Enjolras kissed down his neck. “Combeferre’s going to notice…”

Enjolras sighed heavily but acquiesced, letting Grantaire go but only enough to be able to wrap a scarf around Grantaire’s neck, adjusting it so that it lay nicely. “What?” he asked defensively when Grantaire gave him a look. “It’s cold out.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes but kissed Enjolras swiftly once more before heading back out to the living room. “Are you ready?” Combeferre asked dryly, though there was something amused in his expression as he watched how Enjolras and Grantaire left the bedroom together.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Grantaire said quickly. “I was just here to, um, like Enjolras told you, but I’m gonna…go.”

“Why don’t you come to dinner with us?” Combeferre suggested lightly.

Both Grantaire and Enjolras froze for a moment before Enjolras said quickly, “I’m sure Grantaire has better things to do—” at the same time Grantaire blurted, “I wouldn’t want to intrude—”.

Combeferre just raised an eyebrow as Enjolras glanced at Grantaire and muttered, “It wouldn’t be an intrusion. If you, you know, aren’t busy.”

“I’m not,” Grantaire said quietly, smiling slightly at Enjolras, who smiled back. “Thanks.”

Clearing his throat loudly, Combeferre said, “Well, if that’s settled, shall we, then?”

* * *

 

Personally, Enjolras was quite proud of himself and Grantaire. They made it all the way through dinner without drawing too much attention to themselves, and if Combeferre had been suspicious earlier, surely he wasn’t now. They even got in an argument over lack of vegetarian options on the menu — Enjolras pointed out that the menu should be catering to all individuals, while Grantaire pointed out that since Enjolras had ordered a hamburger, it didn’t really matter too much — so all in all, Enjolras felt their cover was pretty well intact.

At least, until Grantaire stood up to get them some drinks from the bar, and Combeferre leaned back in his seat, his smile turning into something far closer to a smirk. “That’s your scarf,” he said off-handedly.

“I beg your pardon?” Enjolras asked.

“The scarf that Grantaire is wearing. It’s yours.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “It’s a scarf,” he said, a touch impatiently. “While I appreciate your apparent devotion to my wardrobe, you have no way of knowing that the scarf is mine.”

Combeferre leaned forward,his smirk widening. “Actually, I do. Because I got you that scarf for Christmas.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Combeferre agreed, though his smirk softened into a gentler smile. “Look, what you do in your own time is your own business. But why in the world would you think that you either could keep something like this from the rest of us, or _should_ keep this from the rest of us?”

Shrugging, Enjolras looked away from Combeferre. “Believe it or not — and I _know_ it’s going to be hard for you to believe, and understandably so — it was Grantaire’s idea.” Combeferre made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat and Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I told you it was going to be hard to believe.”

Combeferre frowned. “Why in the world would Grantaire, who has had a thing for you for, I don’t know, ever, not want to tell the world about you two finally being together?”

“He is under the I think mistaken impression that it’ll ruin what we have if we tell people about it. And…” Enjolras hesitated before admitting, “It’s not a terrible thing for me to go along with. As much as I love—” He glanced at Combeferre, saw the look of almost shock on his face, blushed, and quickly amended, “As much as I like Grantaire, I’ve always stressed the importance of keeping my private life private, and for the moment, this works for both of us.”

Nodding slowly, Combeferre still looked a little surprised, but covered it up by telling Enjolras, “Look, whatever works for you is what’s important — that is, whatever works for _both_ of you. But I do have to advise you to be a little more careful in the future.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “No one else is likely to realize that the scarf Grantaire is wearing is mine.”

“No, that’s probably true,” Combeferre agreed, taking a sip of water before telling Enjolras off-handedly, “but they might notice the cum stain on your jeans.”

Enjolras turned bright red and started to stammer an incoherent answer when Grantaire returned with the drinks. “Did I miss something?” he asked, looking from Enjolras to Combeferre as he slid the beers across the table to them.

Combeferre grabbed a beer and toasted it towards Enjolras, who hadn’t quite recovered the capacity of speech. “Nope,” he said cheerfully. “Not a thing.”


End file.
